


A Shoulder to Lean On

by stormylullabye



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Nervous Tyson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:14:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21947155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormylullabye/pseuds/stormylullabye
Summary: Tyson has some pre-game jitters before his 500th NHL game. Gabe helps him calm down before his pre-game nap. AU where Tyson was never traded away from the Avs.
Relationships: Tyson Barrie/Gabriel Landeskog
Kudos: 40
Collections: Hockey Holidays 2019





	A Shoulder to Lean On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fleamarket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleamarket/gifts).



> If you recognize yourself or anyone in this fic, please click away now. This is a fictional work based on a very small amount of publicly available information on some people who happen to actually exist. 
> 
> A million thanks to somehowunbroken, who not only managed to put up with my last-minute writing tendencies, but also betaed on short notice. Any and all mistakes are mine.

Gabe's right foot has just touched the bottom step when the knocking starts. Gabe looks up at the ceiling and groans. He just wants to go take his pre-game nap, but it looks like that's not going to happen just yet. For a moment, Gabe lets himself think that it might just be a delivery. A delivery guy would have stopped knocking by now, though. Gabe glances down at his foot again, still resting on the first step, and sighs.

"I'm coming," Gabe grumbles, but he knows the man on the other side of the door can't actually hear him. He pads across to the front door while the knocking continues. "I'm _coming,_ Tyson," he repeats, louder.

"Gaaaaaaabe," Tyson responds, still knocking.

Gabe wrenches the door open. "Tys, I was just going to take my pre-game nap, which you should also be doing, I might add."

"You," Tyson starts, pushing past Gabe and into the hallway, "are not even playing tonight because you're suffering the world's longest injury." He kicks his shoes off and continues into the house. Gabe looks from Tyson's retreating back to the empty doorway and back again, but it's no use. He's honestly not even sure why he's surprised at this point. Gabe pushes the door closed and follows Tyson.

"I've been out for less than two weeks, Tys," Gabe says.

"So you don't need a nap," Tyson says, flopping on the couch.

"I have to keep my game-day routine even when I'm not playing," Gabe explains to the back of Tyson's head from his position behind the couch. "You know this," he adds, rolling his eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Gabriel," Tyson says. His head is back against Gabe's couch, arms splayed to his sides. His eyes are closed. Gabe is only halfway through wondering how Tyson knew that Gabe rolled his eyes when Tyson speaks again. "I could hear you rolling your eyes at me."

"You can't hear people roll their eyes, Tyson," Gabe says.

" _You_ can't, maybe," Tyson retorts. "And I can't with most people, maybe, but I can with you, and you rolled your eyes at me."

Gabe sighs deeply. Tyson will gladly talk about tangents for hours, so Gabe has to rewind this conversation to get to the point. "You should be napping, at least," he says. "You are playing tonight."

"I _know_ ," Tyson says, as dramatic as ever. "And there's going to be some kind of celebration of how old I am, and there's going to be extra attention on me—" Tyson takes a long pause here, opening his eyes and glaring up at Gabe from the couch, "because _you_ had to go and get _injured_."

Gabe opens his mouth and closes it again. He's repeating _extra attention on me_ . . . _because you got injured_ in his head.

"I'm going to have a stupid A on my jersey tonight because you're out!" Tyson exclaims, half shouting and flailing his arms. "And it's my 500th game, so the Avs are totally going to put me up on the Jumbotron!" His voice is rising in pitch and volume as he goes on. "And they're probably going to have a highlight reel of me singing Queen Celine on the Jumbotron!"

"Tyson, I can't take another Celine Dion meltdown," Gabe says, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You missed the whole entire point," Tyson replies. "Why are you so dense and upside down?"

"I'm not upside down," Gabe responds. "I was hoping this would be short and I could go nap in my bed, which is upstairs," he continues, gesturing towards the stairs behind him. "Hence why I'm standing up and not settling into the couch."

"AND," Tyson adds, suddenly shouting. "And, _Gabriel_ , tonight is a home division matchup against Nashville, so we're wearing the sexiest jerseys in hockey. Do you even know how many pictures they're going to put on Twitter and Facebook and Insta and a million other social media platforms?"

Gabe sighs again. "No, Tyson, I don't know. Probably a lot."

"Definitely a lot. A ton, even," Tyson replies, voice going quieter. "And you know who plays for the Preds."

"Yes," Gabe replies, because he knows exactly who plays for the Preds now. "It doesn't matter though, Tys. You don't have to talk to him. You just play your game and ignore who else is on the ice, like always," Gabe says. He drops his arms and walks around the couch, sitting carefully next to Tyson. "And if Dutch says one word to you, all you have to do is tell EJ or Nate and he'll be crushed on his next shift." Gabe puts his hand on Tyson's thigh.

Tyson, who had been studiously looking at his lap since he brought up Duchene, looks up and meets Gabe's eyes. "I mean, hell, Tyson Junior might even throw a hit on that guy and he never throws hits," Gabe adds. "Come to think of it, he might miss, but he'll probably be willing to try."

Tyson laughs and it's the most beautiful thing Gabe has ever heard. "Tyson Junior is more likely to beat Nate in golf than throw a hit," he says, and they're laughing together. Tyson drops his head onto Gabe's shoulder after a moment.

"Hey," Gabe says softly. "You really do need to get your pre-game nap. You're going to be exhausted, which is not a good way to play."

Tyson sighs and nods but doesn't move to get up. His head is a comfortable weight on Gabe's shoulder. Another moment passes. Tyson begins to lift his head, only to turn it slightly and settle it back on Gabe's shoulder more firmly. He leans his weight into Gabe's side and shifts back and forth until he's wedged halfway between Gabe's arm and the couch. Gabe would be laughing at the absurdity if he wasn't so charmed. If he's being honest, Gabe would rather stay here cuddled against Tyson than go take his pre-game nap, but he has the luxury of not actually having to skate tonight.

Gabe allows himself a few more breaths, drinking in the smell of Tyson's shampoo—at least he had gotten his pre-game shower in before he invaded Gabe's apartment—before he sighs. He squeezes Tyson's thigh, which elicits a groan.

"You can just stay in my..." Gabe pauses and stops himself from saying the word _bed_. "Guest room."

"But your arm is so comfy," Tyson replies, mumbling.

"So are my pillows," Gabe responds.

"Nooooo," Tyson whines. "Your guest room pillows are the smushiest and they try to suffocate me."

"I have murder pillows in my guest room?" Gabe asks, smiling.

"Yes, and they're the worst," Tyson answers, nodding against Gabe's shoulder. "But it's fine because I can sleep on your arm."

"Oh, yeah, we definitely won't regret sleeping in this position," Gabe retorts, knowing full well that his knees and Tyson's back will, in fact, regret staying on this couch for the next 90 minutes.

"We don't have to sleep in this position. I just have to sleep on your arm," Tyson responds, like it makes all of the sense in the world. Gabe sends silent thanks to all of his athletic training, which allows him to resist the urge to tense up. All of the athletic training in the world can't help him keep his cool, though.

"Oh," he replies. Tyson stays silent, still laying on Gabe's shoulder, nothelping at all. "Well, yeah, I guess my bed is big enough."

Tyson laughs. " _That's_ what you're worried about?"

"I'm not worried about anything," Gabe replies too quickly.

"Y'know," Tyson says, sitting up and turning to look at Gabe. "For someone so stupidly gorgeous, you suck at lying."

"I didn't realize looks and telling the truth were connected."

"They aren't," Tyson replies smiling. He gets up and offers and hand to Gabe, as if he needs help up off his own couch.

"Oh," Gabe says again. Tyson snorts and shakes his hand at Gabe, who obviously hadn't taken it quickly enough.

"Come on," Tyson says, "I'm sleepy."

Gabe takes Tyson's hand and gets up off the couch. As soon as he's up, Tyson pulls Gabe in and kisses him. There's no preamble or warning to it and Gabe, embarrassingly, basically doesn't react. Tyson pulls back after a moment and looks up at Gabe, curious and a bit tentative. Tyson's look starts to fade to shame; he turns his head and starts to pull away slowly, when Gabe's body finally regains function.

"Tys," Gabe says, grabbing the other man's wrist. Tyson turns back to look at Gabe.

"I'm s—" Tyson starts.

"No," Gabe cuts in. "Don't be." He runs his eyes from Tyson's eyes down to his own hand curled around Tyson's wrist. He slowly lets go of Tyson's wrist and runs his hand up the length of his arm, tracking his progress with his eyes. His hand runs across Tyson's shoulder and comes to rest on his neck. Gabe brings his other hand to the other side of Tyson's neck, then runs both hands up Tyson's face and around the back of his head.

Slowly, Gabe pulls Tyson's face closer to his own. Finally, after what seems like minutes but is likely just seconds, Gabe's lips meet Tyson's. It's soft and sweet and everything their first kiss should be; it's the exact opposite of what their first kiss had actually been, with Gabe just standing there like some sort of broken down robot.

He pulls back and looks down into Tyson's eyes, happy to find that the smile has returned to his face, making his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"Now let's get you that nap," Gabe says, turning and pulling Tyson by the hand towards the stairs.


End file.
